


Rude

by thecatsred



Series: Ridiculous [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omorashi, Semi-Public Sex, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9446285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecatsred/pseuds/thecatsred
Summary: Hanzo discovers something about himself he never meant to; Jesse's just along for the ride.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, so apologize for any errors on my part. Trying to get back into the swing of writing again. Let me know if you see anything!
> 
> First published fic and it's this. Enjoy!

The sound of heavy footfalls and the jingling of spurs alerts Hanzo to Jesse’s presence even before the cowboy opens the door to an outer walkway at the Gibraltar base. Hanzo doesn’t have to open his eyes to know Jesse has yet to notice him.

He can hear Jesse leaning over a bit of railing along the side, the harsh clank of his arm hitting the metal. Hanzo listens to him dig around in his pocket, hears the flick of a lighter opening and the flare of a small flame. He lets Jesse get one puff of his cigar before clearing his throat and turning to look over his shoulder.

“I had hoped you’d ask for permission first.” He says, nearly startling Jesse over the railing. His lighter drops to the ground and his cigar ends up clenched tightly between his teeth in his surprise. Hanzo smirks. “Didn’t notice me, then?” He asks, feigning a hurt sound to his voice. “One has to wonder how you were ever a Blackwatch operative,” He begins as Jesse leans down to retrieve his lighter. “When you have the spatial awareness of a rock.” The kicked puppy look on Jesse’s face makes him hum, but he doesn’t take his comment back. Jesse was much too fun to play with.

Removing the cigar from his mouth, Jesse sighs. “Sorry Hanzo, got a lot on my mind lately.” He says, looking off at the ocean. “Guessin’ I don’t pay too much attention when I ain’t feeling under threat.” He shrugs and Hanzo almost bristles at his lax attitude. The cigar gets replaced between Jesse’s teeth. 

“Overwatch is still illegal.” Hanzo points out, turning more to better see Jesse from his spot on the ground. “We are all constantly under threat of attack.” He watches Jesse take a long drag from his cigar, turning away from the both of them to exhale, the wind taking the smoke away. 

“Suppose.” He agrees, shrugging again. “But if that’s how it is, why you out here all alone?”

“I’m meditating,” The irritation is clear in his voice. He isn’t sure what Jesse was getting at here.

Jesse takes a step forward, looking around and gesturing with his free hand. “Well, what if someone were to sneak up on ya?”

Hanzo narrows his eyes. “That is impossible. I’m constantly monitoring my surroundings. I could hear you inside, all the way down the hall.”

“Ain’t meditating ‘bout clearing your mind? How ya supposed to clear your mind if you’re constantly on guard?” Jesse takes one final draw off his cigar before stubbing it out on the railing and putting the remaining half back into his pocket for later. 

Hanzo watches him do this silently, unsure how to respond. On one hand, Jesse had a point. His meditation sessions had been...lacking as of late. His small room was much too crowded, and the rest of the base tended to have far too many people around. Outside was always ideal, but he was also out in the open, susceptible to attack if seen.

He growls in response instead, leaning over to his side and patting the ground next to him. “If you’re so worried, come, join me. You can listen for intruders while I finish my meditation. Perhaps this will be a good exercise for you,” Hanzo says, then adds softly once Jesse starts to make his way over, “In being quiet.”

“Fair ‘nuff,” Jesse says in agreement, a small smile on his lips. He was certainly always up for a bit of a challenge, Hanzo notes. 

Jesse settles next to him heavily. He isn’t wearing his full outfit, though for that matter, neither is Hanzo. Jesse has on his boots and his hat, however he’s only in jeans and a simple t-shirt otherwise. Even the gaudy belt buckle is nowhere to be seen, Hanzo notices with some amusement.

Hanzo himself had come out here straight from the gym, his usual attire swapped out for a grey pair of sweats and a vneck with the sides cut down low. Jesse starts to cross his legs over one another and Hanzo tsks at him and bats at his knee. 

“No, you’re sitting incorrectly.” He says, reaching over to prod at Jesse’s legs. He gets a grumble and some soft swears for his troubles when Jesse falls over on his ass when one of his feet get stuck. Though after a minute Jesse’s sitting properly, legs tucked underneath his body neatly and hands resting on his thighs.

Hanzo closes his eyes, enjoying the quiet.

It doesn’t last long. “This hurts,” Jesse complains, sounding petulant. “How the hell do you sit like this for so long? My knee’s hurtin’ me something bad!”

“It...did hurt me for a time. At first.” Hanzo admits. “But it’s something you get used to with enough practice. For the first two years, all Genji did was complain. Or fall asleep.” He says, fondness evident in his voice. He opens his eyes a little and catches Jesse looking at him. “What?”

Jesse swallows and turns away, closing his eyes once more. “Just don’t really hear ya talkin’ ‘bout your brother like that.” He says. “He’s real good at meditating now. Half the time he an’ Zenyatta look like statues.” Hanzo sees him smile.

“I suppose.” Hanzo offers, wanting the topic dropped. “Just focus on what you hear, for now. Focus on your breathing and what’s happening around you. You will forget your knee soon enough.”

“Yeah yeah,” Jesse says, but he stays quiet after that, eyes remaining tightly closed. Hanzo shakes his head and moves back into position, closing his eyes as well. 

They sit like that for maybe ten, fifteen minutes, Hanzo starting to feel rather impressed by Jesse’s resolve before it breaks.

“Ya almost done, yet?” Jesse asks, voice so soft and gentle on the breeze, that Hanzo almost misses it. 

“Not if you keep interrupting me. Patience.” He hears Jesse grunt unhappily, but he says nothing else.

Another ten minutes passes, Hanzo guesses, when Jesse starts to shift around. He hears a repeating motion that he figures out his Jesse rubbing both hands up and down his thighs again and again. He doesn’t comment on it, because Jesse hasn’t complained recently and he knows from experience that his legs have to be burning by now. So he lets Jesse have this one distraction. He feels generous. 

Then he hears Jesse trying to settle his weight differently on his legs. The toes of his boots scuffing against the walkway with each shift, his knees brushing and moving and making a sharp noise each time. It’s irritating, but again, Jesse hasn’t opened his mouth, so Hanzo lets Jesse fuss as much as he wants, as long as he’s quiet. 

He isn’t quiet for much longer, however. “Hanzo,” He starts, drawing his name out like a whine. It has Hanzo on edge for reasons he chooses not to identify. He opens his eyes to look at Jesse, who’s got his big brown eyes trained on him like a begging pup. Hanzo files the look away for further contemplation.

“Please tell me you’re almost done.” He says, pleading. Hanzo shakes his head and Jesse whines again, his cheeks a light shade of pink that Hanzo can’t tear his eyes from. “Yer killin’ me here.”

“Patience.” He repeats, curious now how long Jesse will stay here, for him. His meditation all but forgotten at this point. “We are almost finished, I promise you.” He says, looking away from Jesse as he does, though the way Jesse deflates at his words is impossible to miss.

“This is feelin’ like some cruel and unusual punishment.” 

Hanzo swallows. “This is not a punishment.”

“Uh huh,” Jesse says, disbelieving.

Hanzo waits for Jesse to close his eyes before he watches him more openly. One of Jesse’s hands sits in a tight, white-knuckled fist against his side, the other still on its path rubbing down and up his thigh, making that noise with each pass.

He can feel the heat radiating off Jesse’s body now with the cool sea air blowing in, can see Jesse shiver in the dimming light of the evening. 

When another few minutes pass and Jesse shivers again when there’s no wind blowing through, only to tense up suddenly and let out a low noise, does Hanzo immediately become aware of the actual situation.

The realization hits him in the chest like a punch and a rush of air threatens to fly out of him that he quickly bottles up. Jesse’s discomfort has nothing to do with his sitting position, or at least only in part. Something else entirely different is at play here, and Hanzo finds himself absolutely enraptured by it.

Two things war in Hanzo’s mind. The first being the assurance that if the situation were truly desperate, Jesse would excuse himself and make a dash to the toilets. The second, the one that tickled the back of his thoughts like a dark shadow, the one he found himself wishing true the longer Jesse stays, says that perhaps Jesse was waiting to be excused.

Jesse wanted to prove himself in some way, rise up to Hanzo’s earlier challenge put forth. Perhaps Jesse fears failure, especially failure of a task set upon him by one of his biggest rivals, Hanzo himself.

The two often made bets and tried to one up each other. Hanzo figures Jesse sees this as just another one of their friendly competitions. The idea has a grin forming on Hanzo’s face unbidden. 

He sneaks a look at Jesse. The other man’s brows are furrowed tightly and his eyes closed in effort. His mouth holds a permanent grimace, yet no complaint is forthcoming and Hanzo feels powerful in this moment. 

Another full body shiver courses through Jesse, followed by a soft whimper that has him curling in on himself a little and Hanzo’s face lighting up pink. His fist clenches so tightly that Hanzo worries Jesse might draw blood. 

Jesse remains like that for another several minutes, breathing slow and even, while Hanzo watches him, enraptured. Then, ever so slowly, the hand Jesse had been rubbing back and forth moves further inward and down, just enough so he can grab himself through his jeans.

Hanzo knows his breathing has picked up, knows if Jesse were paying any amount of attention that he’d be able to hear it, but as it is, Jesse is focused almost entirely on not making a fool of himself. 

Hanzo wishes he would.

Another shift, another small noise from Jesse, and a hand pressing tighter around his own crotch has Hanzo now entirely hard in his sweats and unashamed for it. Jesse’s lips part with a wet sound and he breathes heavily through his mouth for what seems like a long while, his thighs now constantly shifting and squeezing together and rubbing back and forth.

If Hanzo wasn’t so busy trying to fake his meditation, he would be on Jesse in an instant. As such, they were both getting far too desperate but for entirely different reasons.

Finally Jesse’s had enough. His eyes fly open and immediately find Hanzo’s blown ones. They stare at each other for a breath, Jesse’s eyes shining, watery and a little crazed. “Hanzo,” Jesse chokes out, sounding small. “I...I can’t.” He whispers, now boldly pressing against his own crotch as he continues to squirm where he sits, apparently unable to do much more than whine. 

Hanzo licks his lips at the first sign of Jesse losing his battle, a small sharp intake of breath is all he gets in warning before Jesse’s curling on himself harder and chanting “No, no no no…”. Hanzo catches a small wet patch forming on his jeans, and the visual is enough to get him moving without being aware of what he is doing. 

Hanzo finds himself sitting up on his knees, molding his lower half up against Jesse’s back like he belongs there. He sides a hand around Jesse’s stomach, pressing at the soft space just below his belly while he leans in and rests his chin on Jesse’s broad shoulder.

This close Hanzo can smell the tang of Jesse’s nervous sweat and the earthiness of the smoke from his cigar. He turns his face just slightly, pressing his lips against Jesse’s neck and inhaling, committing the scent to memory. Jesse whines again and Hanzo finds he wants to work more sounds from the cowboy next they have a chance. 

As his hand moves steadily downwards, Hanzo flattens his palm against Jesse’s lower belly and presses in with the slightest of pressure. He feels Jesse stiffen against him, drawing up and arching his back just a little, nervous.

“Hanzo,” Jesse tries again, breathless and strained.

A warning.

One that Hanzo blatantly ignores.

Instead, he presses his hand in more, cooing at Jesse, encouraging him to stop this pointless fight. Jesse holds out for another tense minute, the sweat on his brow dripping down a thin line into his beard, then something in him just breaks. Jesse makes a sharp noise and drops his head back on Hanzo’s chest, defeated.

At first the only thing Hanzo can pick out is the sound, that low hissing of piss coming out so forcefully against the harsh fabric of Jesse’s jeans. He was desperate for it, that much is confirmed. The spot grows rapidly, dark lines appearing all along Jesse’s thigh as the piss runs along the seam of his legs, eventually merging into a single shape the more Jesse lets go.

Emboldened by this, Hazo moves his hand even lower and dips his fingers past the waistband of Jesse’s jeans, learning with a rush of excitement that the other man elects to wander around without any sort of underwear on at all.

He finds what he’s looking for soon enough and presses Jesse’s half-hard cock to angle it the opposite way. The groan this rips from the other man has Hanzo gasping, his own need back at the forefront of his mind. Jesse ends up evenly coating his jeans on both sides as the piss continues to just pour out in an unending torrent. 

Hanzo doesn’t remove his hand from the jeans, letting his fingers play across the head of Jesse’s cock, wetting it and slicking it thoroughly as his spurts become stuttered and infrequent before dying down to little more than a few drops, then nothing at all.

His other hand moves around Jesse’s front so he can more easily unzip Jesse’s jeans and pull Jesse out of his confines. Jesse is still somewhat hard, the embarrassment of the situation not ruining his enthusiasm much, clearly. Hanzo gives a few experimental strokes, pulling Jesse’s balls out of the opening and pushing the wet and rough fabric out of the way as much as he can.

Hanzo turns his face back into Jesse’s neck, pressing a soft, rewarding kiss to the heated skin there. The acrid scent of Jesse’s piss is harsh on his nose, but the taste of Jesse under his lips was more than enough to offset any unpleasantries. Jesse breathes harshly through his nose, trying to calm himself down, but each touch from Hanzo has his breath hitching and causes a tremble to run through him. 

Hanzo strokes Jesse a few more times, fist a little loose around Jesse’s cock at first before it gives a hearty twitch and starts filling out in earnest. “This okay?” He feels the need to ask with Jesse uncharacteristically silent in front of him. 

He gets a pained chuckle in response. “Uh, not...not really.” Jesse admits, turning away from Hanzo’s mouth and grabbing Hanzo’s wrist to still his movements. 

Hanzo pales at the answer, letting go of Jesse and starting to pull away all at once, an apology on his lips. But the fingers around his wrist pull him back, and Jesse looks over his shoulder at Hanzo with that same desperate, watery expression as before.

“That ain’t ta say I want ya to stop,” He clarifies, pushing his hips up, making the head of his red cock bump into the palm of Hanzo’s hand. “Please,” He tries again when Hanzo still hasn’t moved to continue. 

Slowly, Hanzo fits himself back up against Jesse, his hand moving into position and using the cooling wetness of Jesse’s piss as makeshift lubricant to ease the way. He knows he has to get this done quickly, before things become uncomfortably chilly for them both, having not escaped the growing puddle under Jesse.

He can feel his own dick press against Jesse’s lower back, but he ignores it in favor of the sweet noises he’s able to coax out of Jesse with each stroke and twist of his hand. 

Jesse presses up and fucks into Hanzo’s fist, cock sloppy with piss and precome, foreskin dragging against the roughness of Hanzo’s fingers with each pass. Hanzo’s mesmerized by the sight, peppering Jesse’s neck with barely there kisses and whispering encouragements into his skin.

Jesse’s voice hitches and he chokes a little on his own spit, turning his head to the side to offer more of his neck to Hanzo, attempting to press his whole body into Hanzo even as his hips jut forward into Hanzo’s skilled hand.

The forced out breaths Jesse keeps making drive Hanzo wild, and he doubles his efforts on Jesse’s cock just to spare himself the indecency of coming in his own sweats before he can get Jesse off.

With the renewed enthusiasm, it doesn’t take long for Jesse to finish, his head falling back hard on Hanzo’s chest and knees spreading wider while his cock pulses in Hanzo’s grip.

Hanzo strokes him through it, aiming Jesse’s mess into the rest of the puddle and across his thighs for his own amusement. On the last stroke, as Jesse starts to shake from overstimulation, he makes sure to pinch the end of his foreskin to force out the last drops of fluid before he gently tucks him back into his jeans. The fabric was starting to dry and cool, and Hanzo frowns at it before scooting back on his knees.

He takes stock of the state of them both, mentally tracing the path to get to the showers and back to their rooms, hopefully unseen. As it is, both sides of Jesse’s jeans are soaked straight through all the way down, and Hanzo’s knees and lower legs are damp from the mess, too. Neither of them are in a particularly good state. He sits there for a long minute, coming back to his rational self and having a mini crisis all on his own. 

Jesse clears his throat. “I can’t really feel my legs.” He says, voice high and maybe just this side of hysterical. “Dunno if I can get up right now.” He lets himself practically fall over forward, his hands out to catch himself as he turns around very, very slowly, a pained look on his face likely from the sensation returning to his legs in that prickly way it does.

He looks up at Hanzo, for what, Hanzo isn’t sure. Reassurance? Guidance, perhaps, seeing as he’s the one responsible for this. It takes Jesse a moment to register all of Hanzo’s disheveled appearance, but once he does, Hanzo notices his eyes zeroing in on his crotch with some interest. Hanzo finds himself suddenly embarrassed at his reaction, despite everything.

“You into that, are ya?” Jesse asks, making Hanzo’s mortification that much worse. 

He sniffs, turning away and only barely just stopping himself from crossing his arms across his chest. “So were you, if I recall correctly.” 

Jesse laughs, shaking his head in a manner Hanzo’s come to recognize as self-deprecating. He finds he doesn’t like it very much. “Yeah, ‘suppose I was.”

Hanzo stares at him, trying to find something, anything to say. Before this, they had never crossed this sort of boundary before. Sure, Jesse was an unstoppable flirt, and perhaps Hanzo had responded positively once or twice, but this was a territory wholly unknown to either of them and it was terrifying. 

“Think maybe we should, uh, head inside? Gettin’ really clammy in these jeans. An’ I betcha I stink to high heaven by now.” Jesse makes a face at the state of himself and Hanzo frowns. 

“I’m sorry,” He says in a rush.

Jesse’s head snaps up, eyes squinting in confusion. “What for?” He asks honestly. Before Hanzo can reply, he continues. “I mean, that was...a little weird. But I ain’t mad about it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” His eyes search Hanzo’s face for a second, and apparently he agrees with whatever he finds there as the next moment has him standing unsteadily and reaching out for Hanzo’s hand to help him up. 

Hanzo accepts the help, pressing against one leg to help him to his feet. Once they are both upright and no longer in danger of falling over or wobbling, Hanzo looks down at the mess on the ground. He grimaces. “We can only hope that it rains soon.” He says, mostly to himself, but he hears Jesse huffing out a laugh in agreement. 

“C’mon,” Jesse says, gesturing to Hanzo to follow after him. He pokes his head through the doors, looking either way down the hall for others, before he slips inside. Hanzo follows him easily enough down the long hall and passed doors that likely held more of their teammates. It is something of a miracle they make it all the way to the showers in secret. 

Once there, in the security of the small locker area, Hanzo lets out a breath he was not aware he’d been holding. Jesse turns to him with a soft look. “Maybe next time let’s not do that outside in the middle of nowhere, okay?” He asks, and Hanzo is nodding in agreement without fully processing Jesse’s words.

Only when he’s padding after Jesse towards the hot showers, naked and appreciating the tan planes of the other’s back, does he fully take in Jesse’s meaning. He grins despite himself. A next time sounded very good to him.


End file.
